But you couldn't. Wood was once a favourite of yours. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. . That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. I tell you once more, I'll say and do nothing to get you into trouble.
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